


You're Only Lucky Once (CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN)

by Renegade_Sci



Category: Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Dissociation, God this is a thing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renegade_Sci/pseuds/Renegade_Sci
Summary: Simple au for a fic I really like, basically it's a what if story of Greg, where he didn't "died", but with a twist!Most of the ocs in this story are TangerineDT's characters from the storyline of Unhealthy ObsessionIf you want some thing more wholesome with the same characters, check out Terrible Things by Rosie!Update: As of 1/14/2021, I will be rewriting this fic due to me personally not having a idea on what the hell to do with it and I don't really like how I wrote it. However, I will keep this up for the purpose of archive. When the rewritten version will be up? uh I am currently writing cha 1, so hopefully soon.
Relationships: Greg/Franklin
Kudos: 3





	1. Numb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TangerineDT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangerineDT/gifts).



> Fuck Tangie, me and the homies hate Tangie/j

"Do I need to prove my point any further? Get off of my property, scum." 

Hearing those words as Greg looking around at everyone, who fell into a stunned quiet. Waiting for his and Edwin's next move. He felt every second slowed down to a stop, like a record scratch. He was half hoping for one of those voice overs they do in shows with him saying, 'that's me, you're probably wondering how I got myself into this mess, where I am at dinner with my family, where I am in an augment with my 'father', where my 'brother', Craig just throws me under the bus for his own doing, and where now I am being kick out for nothing, because I am nothing to them.'

His mind feels like it's starting to float outside of his body, his need to cry out in anger? sadness? Who cares? It's all numb to shit!

Slowly and in an almost strange calmness, he takes his gray suit jacket off the chair, slings it over his shoulder, and starts to walk towards the large wooden doors.

His head brighter than it has ever been, small amounts of smoke seeping out from his bandages. Watching his own bulb on the edge of breaking, but not feeling anything of it, like he's an outsider watching a movie. It's a strange void-like feeling.

As he moved past the people, white noise was loud in his audio receptors, but he could hear the soft gasps and mutterings of worry under their breath. His feet were picking up the pace, getting closer to the door until his hands on the doorknob. Before Greg could open the doors, he could hear two distorted voices.

"Greg wait!" 

One frantic voice.

"Let the bastard leave, he was never a Fenton to start with."

And one careless voice.

Without skipping a beat and without input from even himself, these words came out of him.

"Go to hell. I hope live a life devoid of anything, but disappointments and you end up alone in a shallow grave with nobody morning you,"  
There was a coldness to the tone, an empty promise, but one he has wished for years now. 

His body pushes the door open, slamming it with a force enough to create a meaty slam behind him. His feet return to their fast speed, almost charging out of the front doors of the manor that was filled with people dead to him.

Getting on to the front yard of the horrid place, his bulb flickers, trying to dim to a low watt, and the smoke slowly dissipating from his head. His mind is still outside of the body, however he can maybe somewhat puppet the body into doing something. He fumbles with finding his phone, a very old flip phone that hasn't broken on him yet with pieces of tape holding it all together. Opening the phone, he sees it's nearly 6pm, around the time that Franklin closes up shop. Hopefully, he'll be able to pick me from this place.

Picking Franklin's name from the small list of contacts on his phone, he starts his walk to the outside of this hellhole to the sidewalk.  
For once today, something went good.

Franklin picked up the call.

"Hello? Franklin? I...I need a ride home, please?" The words that fell out were shaky and slightly slurred.

"That was quick, Greg. I still need to completely close up shop, but I'll be there real soon, just tell me where the manor is," The voice sounded fuzzy with the white noise still stuck in his head and thought the phone speakers, but he can make out his voice luckly.

"mmmm it's...it's," Greg goes quiet for a second, his thought process still foggy. "You go down Robb street, I think and then down some dirt roads until you see it and me."

"Are you ok? You sound out of it, what happened?" The worry in his voice was strange, it sounded off to Greg, but then again he's the one having a slight out of body experience so who knows.

"I'll tell you when you go- get here, Frank," pressing down on the end call button, Greg flips the phone into his pocket and sluggishly sets his body on the ground. His optical sensor starts to hurt a sort of dull pain, but he just assumes it's from tiredness. 

Now, he just needs to wait for Franklin to get here.


	2. In Your Arms Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More story of the story god

The sound of a car pulling up next to Greg was enough to jolt him awake. His light flickers, before dimming into a low glow. His sight was good enough to see Franklin waiting in the dark grey car a few feet away. Pulling himself up onto his feet, it takes a second for him to regain his balance from napping for so long. Quickly brushing off the dirt on the suit and putting the fallen hat back on. Greg opened the passenger door to Franklin moving papers out of the seat, mumbling something about it's not usually as messy as this.

Climbing in, slouching back, and clicking the seat belt into place, Greg looks around the car: A plain-ish interior with the only thing of note is that the dashboard and glove box were filled with what he assumes is random notes and documents. He noticed his vision was the same amount blurry when he woke up which wasn't the worst thing with everything starting to become a mess of a monotone grey. Well, not everything was a type of grey, he could still make out the blue in the sky, but he could not see the green on the manor's lawn. Before Greg could continue contemplating this new problem, he was brought back to reality with a question from Franklin. 

"Are you ok? You sounded out of it went you called and left when I asked you about what happened, I thought one of the family caught you leaving early," An awkward chuckle, still deep as ever, escaped the big man as he started to drive.

"Um I'm good, I was just processing what when down at the party," if he was honest with himself, Greg was just now processing the fight and how ridiculous it was. Starting an argument all because of some successes that Craig has with life that he doesn't happen to have. "Plus, I doubt they wouldn't have cared if I left, even if I wasn't told to 'Get off my property, scum'," the last bit he mimicked his 'father's' tone, trying to lighten the situation a bit.

Franklin shot at glance before he began to speak, "And I thought for once your family weren't gonna act like a bunch of pricks toward you," He continues as he turns on to the dirt road; with shades of gray and dull browns blocking out dark blue as they ride pass, “why did they even invite you?" 

"Well it wasn't my parents who invited me, it was Craig," Greg felt strange for somewhat defending them, even if it's a petty thing. As he looked out the window next to him, he noticed the familiar shape of what he can guess is a taxi on the side of the road. He wasn't surprised that the poor bastard didn't even make it half way.

"Like he wasn't any better," Franklin muttered, his body was more scrunched up than when he was moving papers out of the way. Greg wondered how this skyscraper of a man was fitting inside of this rather small car.

Then he noticed a small buzzing, looking around for his phone before finding the pocket where it kept buzzing. His vision was just good enough to see the source of the phone's vibrations, a handful of texts and a just missed call from Craig. "Speaking of him," Greg sighed, flipped open the phone quietly debating with himself on whether or not to actually look at them. His head was already busted physically by his own brother’s doing, he didn't need him to emotionally bust him as well. He looked through the texts of 'sorry' , 'I didn't mean to throw you under the bus', and one of 'who was that picking you up'. His light bulb started to flare, but unable hold the light for longer than a second before returning to a dim twilight, this anger felt stupid, but at the same it felt great. This whole situation was like a shitty soap opera and he was not going to play any part of this. 

"You know what?" Greg stuffed the phone back into the pocket, his light still lowly flickering, "I can talk to him later, besides since I was kicked out as dinner started and I rather talk to him on a full stomach than an empty one," it was pretty dumb excuse, but he was hungry since he got up and it was just now starting to take effect.

Franklin chuckled, his deep voice reverberated in his chest, seeming to be amused with Greg's little rant, "we could grab some take out on the way to your place," he starts listing off some ideas, the car returns to a more solid road than the dirt as the car drives closer to town, "I can whip something up and we can have dinner at my place, or maybe eat in somewhere, like Bunny's," Franklin's form relaxes a bit in the small car with the side numbers on the big man's number pad glows brighter than usual, "it's not the fanciest place, but the night is very young and you're already all dressed up."

"Like a... date?" Greg questioned, "Your not all that subtle about it, especially with that last bit," even when with his ‘eyes’ starting to fail him, he can still see changes in light and noticing Franklin’s head brighten when he suggested getting food together have given him a strange dull pain instead of in his ‘eyes’; it began inching its way into his chest. 

"If you want to call it that then, it's a date," The glow on Franklin’s face was obvious on his number pad, he didn’t even try to hide it.

\--------------------------------------

Across Bunny’s from the couple, a duo of console heads are seated near the window. The one with light blue transparent Game-boy Advance spoke up first, “Isn’t that Franklin? Who’s he talking to?” They start leaning towards the direction of the two, their big sleeves recovering the fresh band-aids and bandages that covered their tawny-colored skin that wasn’t already covered by an oversized dark navy jacket. “The guy with him looks similar…” 

The other across the table from them turned his old red and yellowed white Famicom to where they’re looking before looking back, “Clarie. You know not to stare at other people and so what? You’ll probably see his suit on the selves in the next few days," he flips through the menu, his stubby fingers looking like lightly worn leather with his body stocky and beginning to look like a dad bod. He was more dressed up than who is assumed Clarie is, with a black and yellow button-up and grey dress pants.

“Oh come on, aren’t you just a bit curi--what?” Clarie turns their head back to look at him, their screen draws a question mark on it. Famicom head sighs and motions them to move closer.

His voice was quiet, but to the point, “to put a long story short, I was looking for a way out, I had an awful lack of morals, and he needed an extra pair of hands,” he crosses his arms on the table before continuing, “I only disposed of what was leftover from his ‘artistry’ and could not be put into shop.” Two more question marks show on Clarie’s ‘face’, “But if that’s the case, wouldn't he have-” He cuts Clarie off and finishes their sentence,“kill me after I left? Simple, I am not stupid and he is not either,” He reposition himself to get a better look at Franklin, with him seated with Greg in a booth in the corner in the restaurant, “he knows that taking too unique of a head and placing it in shop will bust him immediately and I have too much blood on my hands for me not to get arrested with him as well.”

“Well if he’s that smart, then doesn’t he know not to be with his victims in public? Besides it looks as if they’re getting along,” Clarie peered back at the two, now talking to one of the waiters, “you figure he would get buddy buddy with one of the drunks leaving the Bunny’s or the poor sod in the dumpster behind this place.” As they try to get a better look, Franklin moves out of the seat to get up with Greg in tow. Their screen lights up as they get a full look at him, “Hey Greg! Greg over here!”

Greg looks towards his name being called to see a rectangular blue head waving their hand before looking at the looming silhouette of Franklin, walking towards the table and greeting the two, “Sharp, Clarie.” 

“Morris,” one of them replied. Greg assumed the voice was the man referred to as Sharp; he’s voice was short, gravely, and cold as ice.

“Heya Frankie, I didn’t know you got all friendly with one of the Fentons,” The other who Greg would guess is Clarie was rather playful in tone, but Greg was confused on how they knew him.

“Hi, do I know you and where?” Greg queried, he figured it was through Craig taking him to he’s raves, parties, or those dates where Craig tried to play matchmaker with one of his ‘friends’ and Greg. Clarie turned their head towards him, a big question mark formed on their screen before speaking. 

“I’m Clarie Gambi? We met when your brother brought you along to the old factory district on New Year’s eve and we ended up missing midnight, because you got overwhelmed and we had to chill in the car until the others had their fill?” Ah yes, the rave where Craig nearly fell off the roof of that hellhole and where Greg got thrown into a mosh pit that nearly broke his bulb.

“I remember, just why did you call me over?”

“Just wanted to say hello and I guess ask if we can talk more, later? Since I haven’t seen you in a while and you seemed like a chill person,” before Greg could even try to respond, Sharp slams his fist on to the table.

“Can you two just trade phone numbers and talk about this later? I do not want to wait 30 minutes more just to order,” Sharp asserts.

“Yea, as much as I'd like to chit-chat, but I think we should get going,” Franklin put his hand on Greg's shoulder, shaking him a bit. Greg gets his phone out, pulls up his number in the contacts, and writes it on a piece of napkin. Clarie goes the same and they trade numbers.

“I’ll catch you on the flip side, Greg.” Clarie waves Greg off as him and Franklin walk toward the doors. Greg glazes over at the napkin in his hand and sees a note with the number: 'Don't lose your head'. Or what he thinks he sees, but at this point, he’s surprised he hasn’t smashed or tripped over anything yet.

“Yeah, on the flip side, whatever that means.” He mumbled back, just loud enough for them to hear the first half. A bit too busy with figuring out if Clarie knows about what he knows about Franklin or if more people know as well.

Franklin pushes one of the glass doors, holding on to the door long enough for Greg to walk through. Difference in temperature from rather busy and lively Bunny’s to the empty parking lot was enough to make Greg shiver the moment he felt the chilled air rushing in. The town was alive with lights illuminating each and every main street, with a pop of color of red neons. The only color he can now see besides the blurs of greys. At least his hearing or other senses weren't damaged as much.

Whether because he was cold or needed Franklin to know where they were going, Greg shuffled up closer to him; his gloved hand brushed up against Greg. Even if it was for a second, that didn’t stop him from flickering for a second and that dull pain crawled even closer into his chest. A quiet laugh was drawn out of Franklin, “Are you ok Greg? I’ve noticed you been acting rather strange since I got you from the manor.”

“I’m good, just ready to head home Frankie.”

“Frankie? Have you been spending time with Rosy?”

“No I- just... really tired.”

“Alright, let me get you home Greg.”


End file.
